


To the Edge of the Sea: A Tale with No Regrets

by disasterinBold



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pirate, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Enemies to Lovers, Eventual Smut, Fluff and Angst, Idiots in Love, Introspection, Levi is a smart ass, M/M, Minor Character Death, Minor Injuries, Minor Violence, Mirrors No Regrets a little bit, Nonbinary Hange Zoë, Not Beta Read, Pirate Captains, Reflection, Set some time around 1600, Slow Burn, Swordfighting, There will be so much angst I swear I cannot write fluff for the life of me, except for first chapter, they're soft
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-28
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-12 19:34:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29764551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/disasterinBold/pseuds/disasterinBold
Summary: It is the year 1600. Pirates from around the world roam the seas, hoping to pillage towns for treasure. But when the story of the Forbidden Whirlwind begins to pass from ear to ear, the race for treasure beyond belief begins.Captain Erwin Smith and Captain Levi Ackerman are two very different men with the same goal in mind: to be the first pirate to reach the chest. Fueled by selfish desires and hidden pasts, these two men embark on a grueling journey that neither of them is sure they can endure. But what happens when the very thing that separates them also pulls them closer together?When one demands no mercy, and the other cannot oblige, who will reach his limits first and who will triumphantly survive?
Relationships: Levi Ackerman/Erwin Smith
Kudos: 12





	1. His Peace of Mind | 2 Years After the Journey for the Chest

**Author's Note:**

> Updates weekly, beginning 2/28/2021.

Even after two years of brutally sailing the Red Salt Sea, Erwin still refused to slouch in his chair. He insisted on sitting up straight against the wooden bars on the back of the cheaply made seat, staring out at the village below him. It was more or less worse for wear, he determined, as his gaze swept the dirtied streets full of drunkards. He cringed as the clattering of broken class rang out, followed by a string of curse words. Erwin decided to not focus on the ruckus below, instead of watching the sunset on the sea, as the sun lowered below the horizon. A light breeze bristled his blond hair, causing it to blow in the wind.

_This is what peace is,_ Erwin thought, opening his lips for a breathless sigh. He let the wind caress his face, washing away everything around him. He felt as though he was laid bare, in his most vulnerable state. But that was okay, Erwin concluded, because it’s been far too long since he’d felt this way. This sensation was unmistakable. Always being aware of the breath he took, knowing what to do and what was right, not constantly second-guessing himself because god, he just didn’t understand anything; his heart was truly at rest. Erwin wanted to cling to that feeling forever. He gripped the handles of his cheaply made chair as if it would all be taken away from him if he stood. Perhaps that’s why he refused to slouch.

“You look like someone’s going to steal that chair away from you,” a monotone voice came from behind, and there was a shuffle as another figure took the opposing seat across from Erwin.

“I wouldn’t put anyone past it in this town,” Erwin responded with a gentle smile, shifting his gaze onto the man sitting next to him. It was Levi, the man who had been his rival not too long ago. His dark hair fell in front of his eyes, but there was no mistaking that grey-eyed stare. Levi, the man who had put a knife to Erwin’s throat; Levi, the powerful captain who had nearly sunk Erwin’s ship; Levi, the one that Erwin couldn’t possibly help but fall for.

“Tch, you’re acting as though you are not part of this town yourself,” Levi’s own stare fell to the village below them, catching the sight of drunkards falling onto the cobblestone paths that weaved between homes. He clicked his tongue with disapproval, to which Erwin chuckled.

“Perhaps my statement was a bit… misguided,” Erwin attempted, knowing that Levi would catch him if he slipped up, “but I do like this chair. It would be a shame if it were to be stolen from me,” Levi rolled his eyes, giving up on whatever the man in front of him was trying to do.

“That chair isn’t worth the life that you’re giving it,” Levi argued, eyeing it with weary eyes. It was once a beautiful chair, made from a golden wood that shone in the sun. But it, like any other piece of furniture, grew dirtied with age. It had scratches, dirt and quite frankly, was being held together by Erwin’s intense desire to keep it alive.

“And why is that?” Erwin was easily able to keep up with Levi’s banter. It was a nuisance for Levi, but Erwin knew that this was secretly his love language. They were constantly challenging each other, a battle of the wits, so to speak. It was uniquely theirs, and both Erwin and Levi liked it that way.

“It’s just a dirty chair,” Levi quipped, looking at it with distaste, “there’s nothing special about it.” Erwin merely shook his head, finally rising from his chair. He offered a hand to Levi, who took it and stood next to him. Together, the two men peered out over their balcony, watching the sea in front of them. It was swirling with memories; laughter and joy, but also streaked with pain and tears.

“Is that what you truly think of my chair?” Erwin asked, and Levi could’ve sworn he heard a twinge of disappointment in the man’s tone. He would be lying if he said he wasn’t taken aback because he absolutely was. Levi felt an unpleasant weight pull on his heart.

“I suppose I may have overstepped, so forgive me for saying it,” Levi kept his eyes trained on the horizon, “if you love that chair as much as you say you do, who am I to say anything against that?” The dark-haired man’s apology did not go unheard by Erwin, but he couldn’t help but let out a puff of laughter. Levi glanced up at Erwin, the laughter confusing him once again.

“I’m not asking for an apology, Levi,” Erwin reassured, “and while it is true that this chair is important to me, I think you misunderstand what I’m getting at.” Levi huffed; the weight that had been momentarily present on his heart now gone.

“Maybe if you stopped speaking in damn riddles all the damn time, I would be able to understand,” Levi retorted, earning another laugh from Erwin. The smaller man had to suppress his smile, but he was sure Erwin caught it anyways.

“If you recall, this chair was on my ship not too long ago. It was in my quarters,” Erwin began, attempting to jog Levi’s memory. It was a successful one, at that, because Levi had memorized what Erwin’s quarters on his ship looked like. He blushed, clicking his tongue.

“I used to sit in this chair when I wanted to think,” Erwin explained, “Whenever I wanted to escape the duties of being a captain, I would often relax in this chair to try and clear my head.”

“That can’t have been comfortable,” Levi commented, fixing his gaze on the sea.

“It wasn’t,” Erwin admitted bluntly, “In fact, this chair was more uncomfortable than the one that sat behind my desk. But this was one of the only outlets I had besides staring at the sea. And we both know that one can only watch the ocean for so long before their mind begins to disintegrate.” Levi nodded, the waves of uncertainty and imbalance coming back to him. It was an unpleasant feeling that Levi knew all too well, and a day didn’t go by where he didn’t rejoice about the end of that experience.

“So, you kept this chair because it helped you think?” Levi asked, still unsure as to where Erwin was going with this story.

“You’re getting there. I kept it because it kept me grounded. It was the one way that I was able to return to myself after a painful day,” Erwin explained, but the other man was just as puzzled. Erwin could sense the man’s confusion, so he decided not to continue, waiting for Levi to ask the questions that were swirling around his mind.

“Didn’t you have a crew? I thought you were pretty good friends with,” Levi paused to think, trying to recall the names of those on Erwin’s ship, “Hange, was that their name?”

“Right, Hange was my second in command. They were a wonderful companion when I needed someone to talk to. They let me think out loud, gave me feedback on my ridiculous schemes,” Erwin smiled fondly at the memories of his first mate and their antics, “but I liked to get away from that, too. I needed some space once and awhile. I wanted to hear my own thoughts, as crazy as they were. My chair offered me that solace.”

“Hard to believe an inanimate object can give someone so much,” Levi said as he watched the waves. But he was soon distracted, as he saw Erwin turn away from the view. Instead, Levi watched as Erwin positioned himself to face the smaller man, leaning against the balcony bars. Flustered by the sudden attention, Levi forced his gaze onto the buildings in the town.

“Levi, look at me,” Erwin commanded gently, causing Levi’s eyes to widen as he slowly shifted to look at the other man. Erwin’s eyes swept over Levi’s face, and despite Levi’s reaction, he liked it when all of Erwin’s attention was on him. He would never admit that, of course.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Levi finally managed to muster up something to say to the taller man, grey eyes challenging bright blue.

“Is it a crime to look at you?” Erwin’s tone was challenging, almost begging for Levi to pick a fight.

“What does this have to do with your chair?” Levi blurted, desperately trying to keep the conversation from nearing dangerous territory, a point of no return.

“I suppose it has to do with your lack of enthusiasm towards the chair, which is odd,” Erwin answered, “because it reminds me of you.” Levi froze, unsure what to do with the information the other man just presented him with. Was he supposed to find that endearing? Maybe, for Erwin’s sake. Levi had had his fair share of Erwin’s obscure analogies, most of which did not add up in his mind. But even this was bizarre for Erwin, to say the least.

“Did you just compare me to a chair?” Levi deadpanned, raising his eyebrows. Erwin furrowed his eyebrows, and Levi thought he caught the slightest glimpse of pink rise onto his cheeks.

“Not my most tactical analogy,” Erwin mused, mumbling under his breath. Levi rolled his eyes as if to say, _‘No shit, Sherlock!’_

“But what I meant to say was that you became the support that I desperately needed while at sea,” Erwin continued, to which Levi was in disbelief. He was really trying to continue this comparison? To a piece of furniture?

“And you tell this to me by comparing me to your chair? A piece of wood?” Levi’s tone remained flat, still unimpressed by the attempted expression of affection by Erwin.

“Let me finish,” Erwin held up his hands, as if guilty, which by Levi’s measure, he definitely was. Levi sighed, looking down in defeat, then turning his full attention back to the man in front of him.

“If I come away from your so-called analogy more offended than flattered, which is more likely than not, you owe me tea for a week,” Levi made a clicking sound with his tongue, which was code for: _‘You have no choice but to agree, you bastard.’_

 _“_ Alright, alright,” Erwin surrendered, “But if you walk away more flattered than offended, you have to stay with me for a week.” Levi blanched, his gaze falling to the ground.

“I do that anyways, you idiot,” the shorter man retorted, earning a full laugh from Erwin.

“True enough, but I suppose this is just my insurance. I suppose I’m being cocky,” Erwin watched as Levi’s eyes slowly rose from the ground back to him.

“What else is new?’ Levi responded sarcastically, eyes narrowing ever so slightly. A smirk curled the corner of Erwin’s lips, responding to the challenge in Levi’s eyes.

“As I was saying, the reason I care so much for this chair is because I care about you,” Erwin restarted his story again, “Even after all the pain, the failures, but also after the laughs and the memories, the chair was something I could come home to. It was my one anchor in my own life that I had, because the sea was always changing. Sometimes it was hard to even look out my small windows at night because I was convinced I would never escape.” Levi still didn’t understand what this all had to do with him, but he decided it would be better if he let Erwin ramble. He could tell that it had a cathartic effect on the blond man, who hid so much behind his blue eyes.

“So, when you came into my life, albeit in a very… unexpected way, I think you slowly took the role of the chair. You became my anchor, and above all, you made it easier for me to face the ever-changing tides of the sea,” Erwin finished, a silence settling between the two men. But this silence wasn’t awkward or oppressive, no, it was comfortable. It was a silence that had become quite familiar to the both of them, a kind of solace that they could both share. It left Erwin wondering if he had finally reached the man before him, but Levi’s face was, as always, unreadable. And he knew that it wasn’t always on purpose, sometimes, Levi just wore a blank expression because that was his default. It didn’t make him any less of a human or someone unworthy of Erwin’s love, but damn if Erwin didn’t wish that sometimes he could figure out what lay beyond those stormy eyes, he would be lying to himself.

But despite that unreadable face, Levi was secretly melting inside. He could feel his own heart expand in size, filled to the brim with nothing but respect and affection for the man before him. To an extent, he couldn’t believe that Erwin had gone and wrenched out his heart by comparing him to a damn chair, but after knowing him, Levi supposed he couldn’t be all that surprised. Erwin loved to show his love in all sorts of ways, so eventually, Levi had come to expect it. And if he were to be quite honest, this was the best bizarre comparison Erwin had come up with. Nothing made him happier to learn that Erwin, the man who had helped tame the storm inside of him, felt the same things, as if they were on the same heartbeat. Levi, much like Erwin, had been afraid of the sea -- for different reasons, of course -- and when Erwin had stepped into his life, he was the anchor that he treasured. Erwin became exactly what he thanked Levi for. Levi had known for a long time that Erwin cherished him, loved him more than any other person in the whole world. It was in his words, his actions, the way he held him a millisecond longer after an intense battle at sea, the way he kissed him before they both fell into bed. This, however, was an entirely new confession, a territory gone untouched.

“What’s the verdict? Did I offend you so much that you need a full tea cleansing?” Erwin’s words interrupted Levi’s thoughts, “Or will you be staying tonight?” There was a knowing glint in Erwin’s eyes that only meant one thing: he would know if Levi lied. He always knew. Not that there was any reason to in this case, but Erwin knew that sometimes Levi’s pride was a tall wall to climb over.

“I’d be staying tonight, either way, bastard,” Levi murmured, a smile overtaking his lips, “but you have a way with words, don’t you, Erwin Smith?” Erwin’s eyes lit up, thrilled with the answer that lay beyond Levi’s words.

“I am ever so relieved that I do not have to provide you with tea for a week,” Erwin responded, “but I would be doing that either way as well.” A gentle swat hit Erwin’s right arm, causing him to jump. He turned to the other man, who was glaring at him. The blond raised an eyebrow, earning another click of the tongue from Levi.

“That’s fully your decision,” Levi snapped, “I have tea at my own house, but you insist on giving me some of yours. It’s not even that much better than the tea I have.” Erwin approached the smaller man, taking his hand in his own and gently kissing the back of it.

“Can’t a man want your company?” Erwin asked. He lifted his head from Levi’s hand, letting go of it and returning to his spot on the balcony. Levi felt as though all of his nerves were concentrated on his hand, as he turned towards the sea alongside Erwin.

“I suppose,” Levi mumbled, gripping the iron fence that ran along the balcony hard enough for his knuckles to turn white.

“I was expecting a more enthusiastic response,” Erwin hummed, shaking his head slightly, “but you’d tell me to take what I can get, right?” He teased his companion, nudging Levi with his elbow.

“Asshole,” Levi quipped. He could tell they were both falling back into their comfortable banter again. And to be honest, he was completely okay with that. It was not to say that he didn’t like when Erwin fed him those damn analogies. No, he absolutely adored those. Erwin had a way of manipulating language to say things in the most eloquent way, and Levi couldn’t help but admire him for that. For Levi, however, the moments when he felt the most adored was when they bantered with each other. It was an odd thing to love, Levi supposed, but it was a way that Levi could prove he was Erwin’s equal. There were nights where Erwin would be fast asleep and he would be awake for hours, wondering how the hell he got there in the first place. A first-rate merciless pirate captain falling into bed with a newly made pirate, who barely had a ship to his name? It was absurd, and Levi didn’t doubt that people talked, but he had reached a point in his life that he didn’t care. All he cared about was what Erwin thought of him. And despite knowing with all his heart and soul that Erwin would never hold his lack of knowledge against him (and had even offered to be a mentor), Levi had always relied on himself. It was all he had ever known. So, when help was offered to him, even if there was no malicious intent, he declined. It was almost insulting. But as he had gotten to know Erwin, through the good and the ugly, Levi had slowly learned that one did not have to float alone in a lifeboat forever. He could accept the rope that was offered, to climb aboard a life of companionship and trust. And he thought maybe someday he would be able to grip that rope with both hands, confident in his hold. Levi had never expected that moment to come with a sword pressed to his throat. Levi smirked at the memory, the images of Erwin’s threat dancing across his mind.

“What are you smiling about?” Erwin interjected, head resting in his palm as he leaned against the iron fence.

“Huh? Oh, it’s nothing,” Levi shook his head, hoping that Erwin would take the dismissal, but to Levi’s dismay, Erwin pressed the subject. The smaller man didn’t know why he was so surprised at this point. Erwin would never let a question go unanswered, even if it killed him.

“You’re lying,” Erwin put bluntly, “I can tell by the look on your face.” Levi clicked his tongue in annoyance.

“Tch, you really can’t let things go, can you?” Levi asked, though it was a rhetorical question. He knew, however, that Erwin would answer anyways.

“I can’t, and won’t,” Erwin pushed, “I just want to know what you’re thinking about. I shared what had been on my mind, now it’s your turn.” Levi scoffed at that. _It doesn’t have to always be a reciprocal relationship, dumbass_ , he thought.

“You’re a pain, you know that?” Levi snapped, earning a lighthearted chuckle from his companion.

“So I’ve been told,” Erwin mused, “and yet, you’re still here.” His comment was met with another swat from Levi.

“I was thinking about you,” Levi finally mumbled, Erwin’s head perking up at the mention, “and how we met… and stuff.”

“And stuff?’ Erwin smirked, moving to stand closer to Levi, who leaned away. Levi rolled his eyes, keeping his gaze focused on the sea.

“It’s hard to believe that we were at each other’s throats for two whole years,” Levi thought out loud, “I would have chased you to the end of the Earth.” Erwin’s heart melted, despite knowing the context that Levi had said that in. He knew that the smaller man had meant that, not too long ago, they would’ve chased each other for an eternity if it meant getting to the treasure first. But perhaps it made Erwin a little strange, he couldn’t help but let his heart swell with affection. Erwin took the man into his arms, wrapping his arms around Levi’s waist as he rested his head on Levi’s shoulders. At first, Levi squirmed, but when he realized what Erwin wanted to do, he relaxed.

“So would I,” Erwin whispered into Levi’s ear, sending a shiver down his spine. It was a reassurance that Levi didn’t know he needed, and now he was practically putty in Erwin’s arms. The two stood like that until the sky darkened, the stars coming out to play. Each enjoyed the warmth that the bodies produced, happy to stay in each other’s embrace until they died.

“We should get inside,” Erwin murmured lazily, eyelids low on his eyes. Levi gave a hesitant nod in response, pulling free and retreating inside the bedroom behind them. Erwin went to light a lamp, the burning of the oil producing a light that flickered in the darkness.

“Are you staying here tonight?’ The blond asked the darker-haired man, who answered by stumbling into Erwin’s bed. He smiled down at his companion, helping him get under the thin layer of covers. When he was sure that Levi was tucked in and sound asleep, he retired to his desk. It was a compact wooden desk, equipped with only the necessities one might need to write. He picked up the quill that had laid there all day, dipping it in ink and scrawling messy letters laden with ink blobs onto a piece of parchment.

Erwin liked to keep his past hidden, especially from the likes of Levi. Not because it was a bad past, necessarily, but he didn’t want Levi to retreat into his shell of inferiority. Erwin came from a rather privileged family, falling into the pirate life on his own accord. Of course, Erwin had started to open up to the man in his bed, but there was something in him that kept him from exposing himself completely. It could be cowardice, Erwin would never look deep enough inside to find out, but all he knew was that he didn’t want Levi to keep feeling like lesser than; not worthy to share his company. Though Levi didn’t say it outright, Erwin knew. He knew from the way he looked at books apprehensively, the way he went on the defensive whenever Erwin offered a helping hand with, well, anything. Erwin suspected Levi knew of his skills with the written word, but it was something that Erwin would never brag about. Instead, he kept his penned thoughts to himself, jotting them down on pieces of parchment.

Erwin looked at the numerous pieces of parchment that lay on his small desk, all in a neat pile underneath the one that he had begun to write on. He read the scrawled heading of the first paper:

_SEPTEMBRE THE FIFTH, THE START OF THE JOURNEY: FINDING EDWARD THATCH_


	2. The Journey to Find Edward Thatch | September 5th, 1600: The Beginning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erwin encounters Edward Thatch, the only pirate said to have conquered the Forbidden Whirlwind. When he arrives, however, an unexpected guest is already there. A challenge is issued, and the race begins.

12 years had passed since his death, and Erwin couldn’t get himself to bring flowers to the grave. Because flowers were an admission of defeat, a show of surrender, and Erwin didn’t think he could let himself believe that his father was dead, even after all these years. Flowers represented that he was in mourning, and Erwin liked to believe he wasn’t. He liked to believe he carried his father on his shoulders, carried his dreams, which was an unfair burden to bear. People would tell him to let him go, to move past the lost, to keep walking. And it wasn’t as if Erwin didn’t have two capable legs to keep him moving forward, no, it was that Erwin couldn’t let himself. Every time he decided that he would get up and never stop, he hesitated. It was in that moment of hesitance, that stutter, that Erwin fell short. He felt his legs buckle beneath him, the ground disappeared, and he would fall. Hands had reached out to him all the way, but he fully turned into himself. It was easier to just wear the weight on his shoulders like he believed he was supposed to.

Maybe, in another life, he would let others share the pain that he hid so well, but if anyone was good at pretending, it was Erwin. Really, it was an unfortunate talent that he had been cursed with. Because how could a single man watch as his father got murdered by pirates and pretend like everything was okay? Pretend that he wanted to seek revenge, to avenge his father’s life, when all he really wanted to do was sleep? To close his eyes and awake in a reality different than his? Perhaps that made him a bad person -- to want to run as far away as he could from the fate that seemed to grab onto him and never let go. To run away from being this all-powerful avenger, a monster of the seas… the very thing he had pledged that he would never become? And how could he claim it all in his father’s life, to say that it was _for his father?_ That he had become a cold-blooded killer because he wanted to avenge his father’s life? It was laughable really, and it made Erwin want to vomit each time he took more than a few seconds to think about. Which is why he often didn’t. He couldn’t, because how could a man that was supposed to reign the entire Red Salt Sea be unable to handle a death? People died all the time, he often reasoned, why should his father be any different? But that was the thing, Erwin supposed, his father’s death wasn’t like everyone else’s… at least to him.

Erwin’s father was a man unlike any other. That was something anybody said about their own father, it was typical for a child to admire a parent. But what Erwin saw in his father’s eyes was something else. It went beyond life, beyond death. No, it was something that even frightened Erwin himself. Was it a hunger? A passion? A drive? No words could possibly describe what Erwin’s father was like; his own son couldn’t manage to do it. So, when his father surrendered his own life to pirates, Erwin couldn’t handle it. He couldn’t begin to understand just why his father had allowed his own life to be ended by a sword to the gut; almost anticlimactic, laughable even. Recalling those memories brough immeasurable anguish, and so Erwin liked to bury it deep inside his core. But it wasn’t just because it was easy - people told him that all the time. That he was running from his feelings, his pain; that he was simply ignoring the pain and that ignoring it wouldn’t make it go away. Anytime anyone tried to approach him about his past, his immediate reaction was to shut down. Because he knew. Erwin knew, more than anyone, that running away was cowardice. He knew that burying his feelings so deep that even he couldn’t access them wasn’t healthy.

Human beings aren’t two-dimensional. They are complex, and whoever said they were easy to figure out was a goddamn liar. And that was the problem with most people -- they loved to oversimplify Erwin’s past. They loved to make him out to be a troubled kid who felt like a failure; that he was just turning in on himself because that’s _just how he was_ . The real reason Erwin couldn’t bring himself to confront his past was because _he didn’t understand_. He didn’t understand how a man so powerful, so intimidatingly good with so much to give to the world had just gone and died. Had his father been living a lie? Or was he not living at all? The man who told Erwin to go out and live, the father who told Erwin to live with purpose, seemed to die without one. And Erwin, well, he couldn’t fathom that. When Erwin doesn’t understand something, he wants to learn to understand it. To answer the unanswerable, to touch the untouchables. But how could he ask questions when the very person Erwin wanted to understand was dead?

That was when Erwin decided he would go after the chest. He had shaved off years of his life terrorizing islands and villages, stealing whatever was available to him. By all accounts, Erwin was not a good man; he was a pirate, after all. It was practically his job to hunt down treasure and to pillage along the way. So when rumors of a treasure chest reached Erwin and his men, who was he to say no? It was a once in a lifetime offer; if he were to succeed, his name would be feared, saved only to be mumbled when the night encompassed those who dared to even whisper his name. Erwin had been longing for a reason to live, a reason outside of his existence as a pirate…a reason to keep living for his father’s sake. Perhaps traipsing all over the wide-open sea would give him that, if only for a moment. If it was enough to leave a shadow of a taste of purpose on his tongue, then Erwin was willing to go after the chest, no matter the risk, no matter the consequences. But of course, Erwin had had his doubts at first. There were supposedly no survivors, so why did he keep hearing new stories, new riveting tales of diamonds and rubies, of gold coins that shined so brightly in the sun it was almost blinding? Did that not mean there was someone out there, somewhere, who had survived the treacherous journey? _There has to be someone_ , Erwin had decided as he stared out the glass panes of his quarters one night. The water had been particularly tumultuous that evening, the stars nowhere to be seen. The gentle rocking of the boat, usually soothing, kept him awake. _Or else I will simply have nothing to live for anymore_.

Erwin had spent the next few weeks after that evening scouring the seas, searching tirelessly for someone who could give him another clue about the mysterious person he was sure had to be spreading the rumors. Rumors always had to have some seed of truth to them, no matter how small. Erwin was convinced there was someone out there, wherever “out there” meant. He could tell that his crew had not approved, talked behind his back, yet there was never any trace of mutiny or discussions of abandonment. His crew was strong - they knew when to start a fight as well as when to back down from one. Erwin knew that this was a fight that they would rather not get involved in.

After a month or two of searching -- Erwin had stopped counting somewhere along the way -- he had finally gotten wind of a former pirate who had in fact taken the Forbidden Maelstrom by storm. From what he had gathered, the man was a lot like Erwin. Calculating, incredibly intelligent, defiant. The more Erwin heard about him, the more he liked the sounds of him. His name was Edward Thatch, a terror on the high seas. He was incredibly powerful in his prime, wielding power over the other pirates could not fight against. Any pirate who had tried to dethrone him had simply failed. Erwin had no intention of doing so, he knew his place. But what he did want to know was the story of Thatch’s expedition to the chest and furthermore, why he had fallen off the map after. What kind of pirate “king” acquired some of the most sought-after treasures in the world, began whispers of said chest and then disappeared? It was confusing as it was frustrating, and Erwin wanted to understand.

***

Sand crunched below Erwin’s feet as he made contact with the island, the sun blazing the back of his neck. He felt himself relax, the months of sleepless nights starting to finally peel off. He had finally made it to the hideout of Edward Thatch. Before him was a forest of palm trees swaying in the wind, the green leaves bristling in the warm air. He squinted his eyes, as if he would be able to see the cabin that was supposed to be at the heart of the forest. On some level, Erwin thought he could sense the man he was supposed to be looking for. Thatch was supposed to be Erwin’s height, broad and muscular. But it had been years since anyone had laid eyes on him, so he was almost certain that the man could not have possibly kept in shape after all those years.

Erwin’s second in command, Hange, stepped behind him, surveying the site in front of them with their eyes. They made a small noise of distaste, to which Erwin turned his shoulder to.

“Is there something to your disliking, Hange?” Erwin murmured, the blond surveying the land in front of him. Hange’s sense was better than anyone, so if they so much as gave a glance that was slightly off kilter Erwin knew to pay attention to it. This sense of trust only came with years of companionship and life-or-death situations, one that Erwin only extended to a very select few.

“Someone else is here,” they noted, making sure to keep their voice low so as no one else from the crew could catch wind of what they said. Erwin’s eyes widened, his head whipping to meet the eye of his ever-loyal first mate. One of their eyes was covered in a ratty eye patch, while the other gave Erwin a glare that took him aback.

“Are you sure?” Erwin kept his voice low, gaze towards the ground so no one else would inquire. Hange scoffed, clearly annoyed with Erwin’s lack of certainty. He felt guilty, but how could someone else have gotten to this island, much less before him? To his knowledge, Erwin had been the only one searching for Thatch; the only one who had dared to take on the quest for the Forbidden Whirlwind. What had he missed? How could he have been so careless that he had come in _second?_ It was a realization that caused Erwin to clench his fists, the anger radiating off of him in the sun. He supposed that this sudden burst of rage came from a spot of pain that had been buried well beneath the surface. He couldn’t bear to be second because that meant he wasn’t alone, when just this once, he needed to be. A hand came to rest on his shoulder, squeezing. Erwin looked up at the hand, taking it off in a hurried gesture.

“Erwin, contain yourself. There is no reason to act rashly, especially not in front of your entire crew, whom you practically had to force out here,” Hange ever-so-kindly reminded him, causing Erwin to huff.

“Who the hell got to Thatch before me?” Erwin demanded through grit teeth, jaw set, “why did I not hear about this?” He turned back to the palm trees that seemed to have come to a standstill, the wind no longer breezing around him. The implications behind his words seemed to chill the air.

“I’m sure none of them knew,” Hange muttered, “none of them would have dared to cross you like that. They know what this means to you,” they lowered their voice even more, signaling to Erwin a deeper reason to his own sleepless nights. The blond inhaled for a moment, letting out a deep breath a second later. His eyes shut on their own accord, his go-to mechanism to calm himself down. His heart seemed to unclench, the tightness subsiding.

“You’re right,” Erwin finally sighed, “I apologize for acting so… uncharacteristically.” He released his clenched fists, offering an apologetic -- albeit forced -- smile to his first mate. Hange gave him a light punch to the shoulder, a signal of acceptance.

“Who said it was uncharacteristic of you?” Hange quipped, poking fun at their superior. Erwin raised an eyebrow at them, a smirk on his lips. He turned to the rest of his crew who idly sat behind him, chattering amongst themselves and examining the environment cautiously.

“Alright men,” Erwin called, “today is the day we meet Edward Thatch, the man you all know as ‘the one who conquered the Forbidden Whirlwind’. I commend you for your strength and will through this tumultuous journey, though I must ask you once more to keep your guard up. Do not be fooled by anyone or anything on this island.”

“Today, I will be asking each of you whether or not you will remain on this journey. Because after today, the real hardships will begin,” Erwin’s gaze penetrated each member of his crew, an attempt to sort out the weak from the strong, “Whether or not I get a suitable answer from Thatch, we will continue on to the Forbidden Whirlwind. We will enter the eye of the storm, and we _will_ succeed in acquiring the chest. However, if you wish to surrender here and now, I will continue it a debt paid. After we depart from this island, those who desire to end their journey here will be returned to Grimm Isle, where we began our trip.” Erwin watched his crewmate’s faces, waves of emotion riding on their faces. Nerves, determination, outright terror. Of all of them, however, there was only one whose face remained the same; a fire unkempt: Eren Jaeger. Jaeger had joined Erwin’s crew a frightened orphan only to come out a hardened man. A swell of pride swelled in Erwin’s chest when he saw Eren’s eyes. No one knew of his full story, where exactly Eren Jaeger had come from. Hell, the most Erwin knew was that Jaeger had endured enough pain for multiple lifetimes. So Erwin had taken Eren under his wing, pushing him to his limits and protecting him fiercely. In return, Eren offered the only thing he could: loyalty. And to be honest, that was as much as anyone could ask for.

“I will not ask for your answer now,” Erwin announced, “but when it is time to depart, I expect an answer. If you decide to depart, I will not think of you any less of a pirate.” There were murmurs in response to Erwin’s speech, but he decided it would be best if he let them do so. There was hardly time for pointless bickering. With the final word, Erwin pivoted and began his journey into the palm trees. The captain led the group on a pathway through the forest, always keeping his careful eyes in front of him. All he could do was keep moving forward.

After a half hour of trudging through the sand, they came to a small cabin hidden deep within the palm trees. If anyone else had happened to miraculously stumble upon the cabin, they would most likely think no one resided there. But as he got closer to the wooden cabin, Erwin caught glimpses of the subtle signs of life. The unrusted tin cup that shined in the sun, the stray boot that was too clean to be left alone outside. It was the house of an odd man, Erwin decided, but he stayed on his guard. Before they got too close, Erwin signaled for his crew to surround the cabin just in case things went south. The rest of them dispersed as he and Hange approached the door quietly, the two of them pushing their ears to the door. He could only catch a word here and there, but Hange was right: there was more than one person in that house. Erwin felt his chest tighten with frustration once again, but he knew that if he let his emotions get to him, the chance that lay at his feet would sink beneath the sand, never to be touched again. They exchanged glances, nodding in confirmation; they had both heard the same thing. Erwin straightened himself back up, raising his fist to rap on the door three times.

Erwin was just about ready to turn back when the brittle doorknob began to turn. He exchanged glances with Hange, both of them awaiting the reveal of Edward Thatch himself. When the door opened, however, Erwin couldn’t help but stare. In front of him stood two men on opposite ends of the height spectrum. One couldn’t have been much more than five feet, Erwin guessed, but the look in his eyes could’ve killed Erwin five times over. His dark hair gleamed in the sunlight; bangs parted in the middle. Erwin had never met anyone with such a murderous look in their eye, and that was saying something; he was a pirate, for God’s sake. The man who stood next to the shorter man was about Erwin’s height, a grey beard hanging from his chin. But there was no hiding this man’s raw muscle. He was toned, almost frighteningly so for a man his age. Erwin guessed he had to have been at least 65 years old, if not more. He looked far less intimidating than the smaller man, but Erwin was not one to let his guard down around anyone that easily.

“You must be -” Erwin began, only to be interrupted by the man with the beard.

“Yes, I’m Edward Thatch. Jesus, how many of these guys did they send?” The bearded man gave an exasperated sigh, “I already explained everything to shorty over here, do I really have to do this again?” He turned to the smaller man, who merely crossed his arms and clicked his tongue, irritation clear.

“I- well,” Erwin felt himself stumbling, being taken aback by Thatch’s response. Did the bearded man really think the two of them were associated in any way? Erwin set his jaw, eyes hardening ever so slightly.

“You think I’d be caught dead by someone like him?” came a breathy voice, laced with venom, “Tch, you can’t be serious.” Erwin frowned; a nerve being hit. So this was the man who had made it to Edward Thatch before him? It was almost unbelievable; how had a pirate so small made it this far? There was no way he was a captain, the poor man would’ve gotten crushed, for lack of a better word. Moreover, how had Erwin not encountered him before? He was sure that he would’ve had to, since they had both ventured to the same place. And there was no way Erwin would’ve missed a man so deadly.

“Your words wound me so,” Erwin snapped in return, unable to keep his hostile comments to himself. The smaller man glared, giving Erwin a temporary sense of satisfaction.

“I’ll fucking kill you right here, you son of a bitch,” the darker haired man’s words would normally have been an empty threat, but Erwin recognized the malicious stare in those grey eyes. He was not bluffing; he would very much do it. Who was Erwin to stop the fun, though?

“While I cannot _wait_ for my demise to happen at your hands,” Erwin smirked, “Is that not a bit _low_ , even for you?” His poke at the man’s height must’ve hit a nerve, as the next second a knife was pressed to his throat, the man’s face inches from his own, eyes like daggers.

“All right, all right that’s enough,” the bearded man griped, pulling the smaller man away from Erwin, “You can go at it later. Now, you, what the hell do you want?” His gaze shifted onto Erwin, aggravated by his instigation of the shorter man.

“I-I’m sorry,” Erwin straightened himself up, his face heating up. He felt like a schoolboy getting scolded again, the weight of Thatch’s gaze crushing him.

“I didn’t ask if you were sorry,” the bearded man huffed, “I asked what the hell you wanted. If there’s nothing you need, I’d be happy to let you guys resume your fight to the death.”

“Right! I mean,” Erwin stumbled over his words, a small scoff coming from the side. Erwin clicked his tongue, desperately trying to sort out his lost words.

“How did you get to the Forbidden Whirlwind? How did you survive?” He raced through his questions, not wanting to irritate the man any more than he already had. Erwin hadn’t even revealed the true question he had wanted to ask: why had Thatch hidden himself away from the world?

“That’s a lot of questions,” Thatch stated after a few moments, “that I’ve already answered.” Erwin winced. He had been expecting that, but it still made him feel guilty.

“I completely understand if you do not want to explain it all again,” Erwin rushed, desperate to rid himself of his guilty conscience.

“Relax, eyebrows,” Thatch responded, exhaustion seeping into his voice. Erwin picked up on the nickname, and he couldn’t help but wonder if Thatch and the smaller man were related. There was no mistaking the sarcasm and thinly veiled hostility towards outsiders. Erwin wondered just how long the shorter man had spent with Thatch.

“I’ll go over it again, but I’m not going to repeat myself. If you miss anything, that’s your fault,” Thatch stretched, scratching the back of his neck as if he were preparing for some strenuous journey. Erwin supposed he was, in some capacity, having to relive his battle with the Forbidden Whirlwind in the form of words. If anyone knew the horrors of being forced to confront pain, it was Erwin. His nervous expression relaxed ever so slightly, hoping to allow the space for Thatch to feel comfortable as well.

“I’d say it was about 7 years ago or so when I decided to take on the Forbidden Whirlwind. I was a lot like you two; a stubborn ass head that didn’t back down,” Thatch winked at the two men in front of him, “It took me about a year to find the damn thing, and another month to figure out how I could possibly access the eye.” By this point, both the shorter haired man and Erwin were caught on Thatch’s words as he wove them a story full of adventure and courage. When he concluded, however, Erwin still didn’t feel fulfilled. To some extent, Erwin felt guilty at inquiring further: Thatch had given him plenty of clues to lead him to the Forbidden Whirlwind, yet at the same time, left out so much, creating more questions than answers. The old man had, perhaps intentionally, left out one crucial detail: what was hidden inside the chest.

“You pirates are all the same,” he chuckled, “Just want to hear about some goddamn treasure, eh?” Thatch winked. Erwin felt his face grow warm once more, how had the old man known? Was his face truly that readable? He decided not to question it, instead giving a timid nod in response.

“Well, I don’t blame you, but you’re not going to believe me when I tell you,” Thatch shook his head, “so I won’t.” Erwin’s eyes widened, the cutoff from the very heart of the story taking him by surprise. What did the old man mean; why wouldn’t Erwin believe him?

“Ah, see, that look on your face tells me everything I need to know,” Thatch sighed, feigning sadness, “It’s always the ones who need to believe most, too. What a waste.”

“What do I need to believe? Why wouldn’t I believe what was in the chest?” Erwin was well aware he was desperate, but he had come this far, and he didn’t want to leave with no more leads than he had already come in with. Thatch’s story had been fascinating, and there was no doubt that that man had a way with words; despite what Erwin had said earlier, Thatch’s words _did_ matter. They mattered _a lot_.

“Because no one has,” Thatch shrugged his shoulders, “those who I have told decided to spin their own tales about the Forbidden Whirlwind and the chest. They didn’t like the truth, so they lied instead.” Ah, so that was why the rumors Erwin had heard hadn’t made sense. They were simply lies weaved by people’s fantasies. Erwin felt the hauntingly familiar desperation begin to claw at him once again. His entire purpose -- the very thing keeping him alive -- all based on lies. How was he supposed to cope with that? Erwin had had his fair share of pain, and on some level, he was prepared for Thatch to not provide the answers he needed. But the thing was, Thatch had given him answers. The old man had, if anything, given Erwin a new taste of purpose. But now the cup was empty, the thirst of life quenched once more. He wanted to desperately collapse, to close his eyes and depart this reality that weighed him down like Atlas.

“Erwin, are you alright?” Hange’s voice ripped Erwin from his thoughts, temporarily putting an end to his spiral. Their hand was gripping his shoulder tightly, eyebrows furrowed in concern.

“I’m alright, Hange, thank you,” Erwin gave them a reassuring smile, but they didn’t return it. Their eyes read: _We’ll talk about this later_.

“Well, that was a new one,” Thatch interrupted, a weak attempt at lightening the darkened mood, “I’ve never had someone react that way before. Mostly, it’s been people yelling at me insisting that I was lying.” An uncomfortable silence followed the bearded man’s words. No one laughed, no smile in sight.

“Well, it was worth a shot,” Thatch shrugged finally, “I suppose, if you really want to know, I’ll tell you what was in that damn chest.” Erwin perked up; interest piqued once more.

“There was nothing,” the bearded man stated as if it didn’t mean anything, “Absolutely nothing.” At first, Erwin truly did believe Thatch was not being honest. But when he saw the look upon the older man’s face, he knew it to be true. There was no trace of entertainment or amusement; he appeared at ease, a small smile on his lips. It wasn’t a lie. Erwin felt the teeth of despair sink into him, Thatch’s words of warning lost on his ears. He didn’t believe it. No, he _couldn’t_.

“I told you. You don’t believe me,” Thatch shook his head in dismay.

“I...” Erwin replied hesitantly, “Forgive me, it is just a bit hard to believe that a world-famous treasure chest has nothing in it.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” was what the older man said with a nod of his head. Erwin sighed, realizing that the man was not going to go into any more detail. What more could Erwin do? The storm that lay within the blond was stirring once more, and he didn’t know if he could contain it, even with numerous people around. He told himself he had to just keep walking, because that was all that he could do. But now, Erwin wasn’t sure if he could even do that.

“Well thank you, Edward Thatch, for indulging me. I do appreciate it,” the two men shook hands, and Erwin led Hange and the rest of his men away from the cabin. Thoughts swirled around in his brain. Truthfully, Erwin had gained much knowledge from Thatch, far more than he had been expecting, yet he was walking away empty. He no longer had any desire to continue on, almost wishing that he could simply drop here. Erwin would be fine sinking into the sand, disappearing forever. His father’s presence, which Erwin had kept on his shoulders for so long, was beginning to fade. Erwin’s sole purpose for surviving this far was entirely owed to his father, and with the new knowledge that nothing was in the chest, there was no reason for him to continue. Why would he go on a fruitless journey?

As they reached the clearing, a voice from behind called out. Erwin turned around, watching as his men cleared the way for the darker-haired man from earlier. He gazed upon the smaller man wearily, watching as his loose blue shoot rippled in the wind.

“I wasn’t lying back there, you know. I’m going to kill you,” he said simply, hardened glare aimed straight up at Erwin.

“Oh?” Erwin’s lack of energy was not lost on the smaller man, causing him to narrow his eyes suspiciously.

“You came here looking for the chest, didn’t you?” The darker-haired man questioned, knowing that this at least would pique the blond’s attention. It worked like a charm; Erwin bought into it just as he had predicted.

“And you as well, I’m assuming?” Erwin raised an eyebrow, the man in front of him giving a curt nod.

“Why else would I come to this godforsaken island?” The smaller man quipped, looking around with disgust.

“Well, I wish you luck on your expedition,” Erwin said, after a few seconds of silence. The smaller man clicked his tongue.

“What? Old man Thatch already scared you off?” The smaller man hadn’t expected a man such as Erwin to be off put so easily. Erwin stiffened, gritting his teeth. He felt his jaw harden, the words hitting something deep inside of him.

“No. I was simply wishing you luck because I’m going to beat you to the chest. Think of it as… a challenge, of sorts,” Erwin’s own words surprised him. He hadn’t expected them to come out, especially after having practically decided that he was going to abandon his journey. There was no way Erwin could continue the way he was, in the mindset he was in. So why the hell did he just challenge the man in front of him? He regretted it with all of his being, but words couldn’t be taken back, and he wasn’t one to back down from a challenge, albeit one he didn’t want to be in in the first place. Erwin supposed he would have to find some way of coping, discover a new purpose that kept his legs moving forward. Hell, maybe the smaller man could give it to him, however unlikely that may be.

“That’s awfully bold of you, isn’t it? But I suppose there’s no helping it. I guess we’ll see who gets there first,” the suggestion that lay beyond the smaller man’s words was not lost on Erwin. He knew an acceptance when he heard one. The smaller man was declaring his victory, and suddenly there were new cogs spinning in his brain, the cobwebs being brushed aside.

“I look forward to it,” Erwin smirked, sticking out his hand. The smaller man looked at it with disgust before taking it anyways.

“It’s Levi,” he mumbled, only so Erwin could hear it. The blond man smiled coyly, giving a nod.

“Erwin.”

“Pretentious name for a pretentious asshole.”

“So I’ve been told.”

“I’m going to beat you to the chest, then I’m going to fucking kill you.”

“So you’ve said. You have yet to actually do it, though.”

“Fucking prick.”

“I’m waiting.”

“Yeah, well you can wait some more.” Levi turned with a wave, pushing through Erwin’s crew to depart.

“Captain, who was that?” Eren yelled, as he watched the smaller man leave. He had been observing the situation from afar, aware of the growing tension between the two men. But he hadn’t been close enough to hear their conversation.

“I…” Erwin paused, his brows furrowing as his gaze trailed behind Levi, watching him leave, “Don’t know. Yet.” It was an honest answer. He had no idea who the hell Levi was; how he had gotten to Thatch first, how he had become a pirate in the first place. But for the first time since he had learned of the Forbidden Whirlwind, Erwin felt hungry.

“Men! The time has come,” Erwin raised his voice, causing his crew to turn towards him. Their faces were timid, unsure, but they knew what was to come.

“Who will be joining me on my voyage to the Forbidden Whirlwind?”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To clarify: 12 years have passed between Erwin meeting Thatch and his father's death.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey y'all! Super excited to have you along for this tumultuous ride, can't wait to hear what y'all think :) Side note: Pay attention to the chapter titles, they should help keep everything in order (in terms of years things take place and such).


End file.
